


Falling

by PrettyTheWorld



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Future Fic, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, New York, Post-Canon, community: qaf_giftxchnge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyTheWorld/pseuds/PrettyTheWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian knows better than anyone: As soon as things start to feel perfect, something's bound to go wrong....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 QAF Gift Exchange on Live Journal. Original request: Angst lite future fic. 10 years or so post 513. Actual post 513 timeframe writer's choice. Slice of life fic is fine, maybe focused on a specific issue that causes a minor bump in the road for Brian and Justin.

“I mean, can you fucking believe we live here?” Justin asked, arms spread, spinning a circle in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Who the fuck are you? Mary Tyler Moore?” Brian groused, rolling his eyes, but even he couldn’t deny that Justin was right. 

Manhattan in December was a sight to behold; in the right places (and Brian was convinced that Justin knew them all), holiday cheer erupted from every conceivable pore. It made Justin’s eyes shine and the wattage on his smile increase about tenfold, so really, Brian couldn’t complain. 

“First of all, that was Minneapolis,” Justin countered, resuming stride next to Brian. “And second, I’m pretty sure you’d kill me if I threw this hat in the air.”

Despite his best efforts, Brian grinned, flicking at Justin’s beanie before slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Damn right I would, Sunshine. That’s a cashmere-silk blend.” 

After a few moments of walking in companionable silence, they reached their point of separation. “Are you sure you don’t want to go ice skating with Daph and me?” Justin asked, looking up at Brian with hopeful eyes. 

“Sorry, but work calls,” Brian replied. “I was barely able to squeeze in dinner. Besides, I’m sure you and Ms. Chanders have plenty to catch up on, now that she’s free for a couple days. You ladies enjoy yourselves, and I’ll see you back at home in a few hours.”

Justin sighed, but nodded. “Alright. Don’t work too hard.”

Brian smirked. “We’ll save that for tonight.” He leaned down and gave Justin a chaste kiss on the lips. “Later.”

He watched as Justin smiled and waved before heading into the evening lights of Central Park, and then he turned back toward 5th Avenue for his walk back to the office.

 _I’m not sure how this became my life,_ Brian thought, _but for once, everything feels exactly as it should._

His feeling of contentment lasted for about an hour and a half.

Brian rolled his eyes when he saw Daphne’s name lighting up his cell phone display. “What now? Hot chocolate? A carriage ride through the park? The answer is still no,” he greeted her, his tone light but firm.

“What?” Daphne said, genuinely sounding bewildered. “Listen Brian, I need you.”

Immediately, Brian sobered, on instant alert. “What? What’s wrong?”

“We’re at Roosevelt. Justin’s hurt, a little kid ran into him on the ice, and he fell—” There was garbled noise as an announcement in the background drowned out Daphne’s frantic voice. The last thing Brian could make out was the word “broken.”

“Daphne! Daph—” Brian said, louder than he’d intended, as if he could compensate for the noise on her end of the phone. Two words reverberated through his head at a deafening level: _Justin. Hurt._ And yet again, he hadn’t been able to stop it.

“Sorry, Brian,” Daphne said finally, and he could hear her, but barely. “I had to step out of the room. Listen, we’re at Roosevelt, like I said. Justin’s with the doctor now, they just took him for x-rays. We think his arm is broken.”

Brian’s blood ran cold, even though he knew a broken arm should have been a relief. It wasn’t his head. He was conscious, probably not even bleeding. But Brian couldn’t help the one nagging question that lingered on his mind: “Daphne, which arm?”

“Shit, I’m sorry Brian, I’ve gotta—” There was more unintelligible noise from Daphne’s end of the phone, and then the line went dead.

“Motherfucker!” Brian yelled at no one in particular, using every last ounce of control to refrain from throwing his phone across the room in frustration. Instead, he opened a text message to Daphne to inform that he was on his way, and dashed out of the office.

For once, the city traffic was on his side, and he managed to get outside and hail a cab within ten minutes. “Roosevelt Hospital ER, as fast as you can,” he hurriedly instructed. 

The cab ride was fairly brief, all things considered—only about another ten minutes—but Brian drummed his fingertips nervously against the windowsill, the drive through the park feeling endless. As he continued to stare at his phone, waiting for a sign of life from Daphne or Justin, it was more than enough time for worst-case scenarios to filter through his already panic-stricken brain. 

Justin was only a few weeks away from one of the biggest show openings of his career, and Brian knew that the week after the New Year was going to be a mad scramble for him to put the finishing touches on his pieces. What if he wasn’t able to complete his paintings in time? What if the break was so bad that he wouldn’t be able to paint again? Justin had spent the last ten years fighting tooth and nail to make a name for himself in the New York art scene, and was finally receiving the recognition he craved and that Brian knew he rightly deserved. It was unfathomable to think that a spill on the ice in Central Park, caused by some clumsy little brat, could end things so suddenly. Not after everything he’d already been through. 

But still, without knowing exactly what to expect, Brian feared the worst. Until he made it to the hospital, there was little he could do to take control of the situation. He debated if he should send a message to Jennifer, but knew it would only make her worry just as much, and feel even more helpless, being nearly 400 miles away from her son. It would be better to get some answers first, and then inform anyone else who needed to know. 

He breathed a sigh of relief as the hospital entrance came into view, and Brian barely glanced at the meter before pulling a random bill from his wallet and passing it to the driver, knowing it was far more than enough to cover his $13.00 cab fare. 

The Emergency waiting room didn’t appear to be terribly busy, but the staff at the main desk didn’t seem overly concerned with paying attention to the few people who were there. Brian finally lost his patience and asked loudly, “Who do you have to fuck to get some service around here?” 

“You’re not my type sugar, but what can I do for you?” a nurse drawled, sauntering over to him, and seeming entirely nonplussed by his question. 

“I’m looking for a patient. Justin Taylor.”

“Are you family?”

Brian groaned internally. He was not in the mood for this battle. “Yes. He’s my partner.”

“Name?” she requested, scanning a list.

“Brian Kinney.” 

She appeared to locate his name on the list, and Brian silently swore that he’d kiss Daphne for remembering, the next time he saw her. “Mr. Taylor is in Bed 10. Not sure if they brought him back from x-ray yet, but go on.”

He accepted the Visitor sticker she offered him and rewarded her with a charming smile before dashing past her. 

“Brian!” He heard Daphne’s voice before he saw her. She ran up and greeted him, throwing her arms around him.

Brian hugged her quickly before pulling back and holding her at arm’s length. “What the fuck happened? Where is he?”

“He’s back—” she began slowly. 

“But?” he interrupted impatiently, craning his neck to see if he could see Justin’s bed. “You couldn’t fucking answer your texts?”

Daphne blanched. “Brian, I’m sorry. The reception was horrible, and then they yelled at me for being on my phone, and….”

“It’s fine, forget it,” he relented, realizing he was taking his frustration out on her, unnecessarily. “I want to see him.” 

“You should just be aware of something,” she continued.

Brian’s blood ran cold and he gave her a piercing look. “What?”

Daphne hesitated. “Well… just come here. You’ll see.”

When Brian rounded the curtain that was pulled to the end of the designated bed, Justin came into view, not looking too worse for wear, aside from the splint and sling surrounding his _left_ arm.

“Oh thank fuck,” Brian murmured, taking in the sight. He raised an eyebrow in Daphne’s direction, silently asking, _“So what’s the problem?”_

As if on cue, Justin took notice of Brian standing near the foot of his bed, and his face broke out in a giant grin. “Brian!” he exclaimed gleefully, a megawatt smile lighting his face. “What are you doing here?”

Brian smiled in spite of himself, before looking to Daphne and muttering, “What the fuck did they give him?”

She shrugged. “He gave them a rundown of his allergies beforehand, and he was in a lot of pain, but that’s all I know. He’s been like this since he came back from the x-ray.”

Tongue in cheek to hide his amusement, Brian nodded. “I see.” Turning back to Justin, he said, “I was just in the neighborhood.”

Justin snorted and said, “Yeah, like you’d hang out anywhere around Hell’s Kitchen,” before dissolving into giggles. 

Brian rolled his eyes. “Well, next time you decide to try figure skating, we’ll get you some lessons first and try to avoid coming back here.” 

“It really wasn’t his fault,” Daphne explained quietly. “He had his back turned when the kid skated into him.”

“John Lennon died here,” Justin piped up loudly, suddenly solemn. “He fucking _died_ right in THIS hospital, Brian. Probably in this very ER! A Beatle!”

“Well fortunately, you won’t be joining him tonight,” Brian said, moving closer to the head of the bed. Instinctively, he reached out to caress Justin’s cheek.

Justin nodded, nuzzling into Brian’s touch, and began humming something that sounded suspiciously like _“Imagine.”_

“Thanks, by the way,” Brian said, directing his words at Daphne. 

“For what?” she asked, stepping closer to him.

“For being my bestest friend in the whole world,” Justin supplied. “I love you, Daph.”

“Thanks, Justin. I love you too,” she replied dutifully, before giving Brian a rueful smile.

“Well, there’s that,” Brian said, smirking. “But for calling… and for making sure I would get back here without having to make any heads roll.”

Daphne opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Justin’s next impromptu musical performance.

“Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ indo, sippin’ on gin and juice….”

“The fuck?” Brian said, shaking his head.

“Laaaaaaaaaid back,” Justin continued, raising his sling-adorned arm for emphasis. 

“Stop moving it, you’re going to—” Daphne tried to say.

“Got my mind on my money and my money on my mind,” he finished, and then flopped back on his pillow, actually appearing to have fallen asleep.

“Christ,” was all Brian said. 

Daphne giggled. “Better this than when the meds wear off, right?”

“I can deal with whining princess Justin.”

“Suit yourself,” Daphne replied. “But speaking of money on your mind, I told the nurse that you’d take care of the paperwork and billing stuff. I hope that’s okay. I knew he was on your insurance.”

“Yeah, I’ll handle it. Thanks.”

After a few minutes of Justin continuing to sleep, and Brian and Daphne murmuring comments back and forth to each other, a doctor came to speak with them. 

It turned out Justin’s break was in his wrist, and was fairly minor, all things considered. He would be due to meet with an orthopedic specialist in two days for a cast, but until then, he was just to keep his arm splinted, and to ice it as needed, to bring down the swelling. The doctor didn’t see any reason not to anticipate a full recovery, and prescribed some pain medication that wouldn’t interfere with Justin’s allergies, but would help to keep him comfortable (and non-loopy, Brian was certain to clarify). 

“You alright?” Daphne asked, as soon as the doctor left, and Brian stood quietly, looking down at Justin’s sleeping form. 

“Fine, why?” Brian asked, giving her a sideways glance, before returning his focus to Justin’s face. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” she said simply, placing her hand atop Brian’s, where it rested on the bedrail. 

Brian didn’t say anything, but offered her a weak smile and didn’t move his hand. 

Justin woke within the hour, already seeming a bit more like himself. Brian left him with Daphne while he sorted out the financial information and Justin’s discharge was processed. 

“Hey,” Justin greeted him upon his return. 

“Hey yourself,” Brian replied, feeling relieved by the normalcy. 

“They said I can go?” Justin asked, gesturing with his good hand at the folder Brian was holding.

“You’re a free man,” Brian confirmed. “How are you feeling?”

“Stupid,” Justin admitted, laughing lightly. “I got taken out by a kid. Who does that?”

“Well, I’ve always said you’re quite gifted,” Brian teased. 

Justin smiled in acknowledgement. “Let’s go home.”

“You sure you don’t want to stop at Strawberry Fields first?” Brian asked innocently.

Justin had the decency to look embarrassed before he muttered, “Shut up, Brian.” Daphne just laughed. 

The three shared a cab back to Brian and Justin’s place, where they parted ways with Daphne. She gave Justin a gentle hug on his good side, and told him to call her the next day. 

Before he put her back in the cab, Brian kissed her on the cheek in thanks. He considered it a small victory that, even after 14 years, he could still make her blush.

“Do you need to go back to the office?” Justin asked, once they were back inside their apartment and he was shrugging off the wool jacket draped loosely around his left side. 

“Why would I?” Brian asked.

“Well for one, you left everything besides your phone and keys there. Aren’t you freezing?” he said, gesturing at Brian’s lack of his usual coat, scarf, and gloves. 

“I guess I didn’t notice,” Brian admitted. “You kind of threw me for a loop with your impromptu swan dive.”

“I figured,” Justin said. He stepped closer to Brian, who looked down at him, saying nothing. 

Without another word, Justin wrapped his free arm around Brian, squeezing as tightly as he could. After a moment, Brian put his arms around Justin, careful not to jostle his sling between them. 

“I’m okay,” Justin whispered into Brian’s neck before pressing a kiss to the cold skin. 

“Of course you are,” Brian said, more harshly than he intended, releasing Justin from the embrace. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you be?”

Justin gave Brian a knowing look, but simply shrugged. “You’re right. So did you need to go back to the office? I’ll be fine. I just need to lie down.”

Brian sighed. “Does your arm hurt? I’ll run out and pick up your prescriptions.”

“Like a bitch,” Justin groaned. “I can’t take anything for a couple more hours, though.”

“I’ll be back in less than an hour,” Brian decided. He would go back to the office to close everything up, stop at the pharmacy, and chain smoke for as long as he could, to try to clear his head a bit. 

Justin nodded, then waved him away as he walked toward the bathroom. 

When Brian returned, true to his word, exactly fifty-four minutes later, the apartment was unexpectedly dark.

“Justin?” he called out, reaching for a light switch. Justin was lying supine on the couch, a bag of ice balanced on his broken wrist. His right arm had moved to shield his eyes from the sudden intrusion of brightness. 

Brian pulled off his gloves before moving to sit on the edge of the couch, near Justin’s hip, and set two bags on the coffee table. “How long has this been here?” he asked, poking at the semi-melted bag of ice. 

“Not long enough to matter,” Justin muttered. “Not like it helps.”

“It’ll help the swelling,” Brian insisted. “But you might want to give it a break.” He moved the ice to the floor and leaned over Justin, smoothing back his hair.

Justin moved his arm to peer up at Brian through squinted eyes. He looked as exhausted as Justin felt. 

“You know what I realized?” he asked, his gaze growing more intent.

“That you should have requested a hotter male ER nurse?” Brian guessed, grinning.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, maybe he would have kissed me at least.”

Brian’s amusement was replaced by confusion. “What?”

“You haven’t kissed me. Not since before I fell. Hell, you even kissed Daphne!” 

Brian narrowed his eyes. “Are you pouting?”

“Well why shouldn’t I?” Justin argued. “Everyone knows that true love’s kiss makes everything better.”

“ _Everyone_ knows this?” Brian raised an eyebrow, standing back up to remove the rest of his winter attire. Justin frowned at the sudden space between them. 

“Uh huh,” Justin said playfully. “And here you are, letting me suffer!”

Justin regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Brian’s demeanor changed, almost imperceptibly, but Justin immediately saw the slight sag in his posture. He walked across the room and busied himself with hanging up his coat and scarf.

Justin sighed, struggling to move to a sitting position without disrupting his arm. “Brian."

“You should probably lie down somewhere more comfortable,” Brian said, still fussing with the coat hanger and not looking at Justin. “You can take another pain pill in about an hour and a half.”

When Brian turned back around, Justin was standing inches away from him.

“What?” Brian barked.

“Quit freaking out,” Justin said firmly. “I’m fine.”

“I know.”

“Then come lie down with me.” To Justin’s relief, Brian allowed himself to be pulled into the bedroom, and followed Justin onto the bed.

“Closer,” Justin commanded once they were settled down. Brian rolled his eyes, but complied, scooting over until Justin could move into his arms. 

“Better?” Brian asked sarcastically.

“Almost,” Justin replied, tilting his head to look at Brian’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said solemnly.

Brian looked down at him. “What the fuck are you apologizing for?”

“Whatever’s going through your head at a million miles per hour.”

Brian was quiet for several long seconds, but it seemed that in the darkness of their bedroom, he decided it was safe to speak. “When Daphne called me,” he began quietly, “all I could think was, _Not him… not again_. Then all I knew was that it was your arm, but not which arm, and… and part of me was even thinking that maybe if I had gone with you, it wouldn’t have happened, or I could have stopped it….” 

“I didn’t even see the kid coming, Brian,” Justin said. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. I mean, even if you had been there, maybe he would’ve taken us both down, and we’d have both been hurt.”

“Yeah, I know,” Brian admitted. “It’s just, when I saw you in the hospital, I thought I’d feel relief when I saw that it was your left arm, and not the right, but I really didn’t.”

Justin laughed lightly. “Well, _I_ felt enough relief for both of us, despite that my wrist hurt like a motherfucker. But at least I can still finish my paintings and everything.”

“And jerk off,” Brian supplied helpfully.

Justin snorted. “Well, I like to think you would have helped with that, even if I couldn’t…. The paintings would have been another story.”

“I’m always here to help with that,” Brian murmured, his breath tickling Justin’s ear. “But just promise me that’s one bone you’ll never break.”

“I’ll do my best,” Justin said dutifully, before turning serious again. “Just stop trying to push me away when I need you, okay? I’m fine. I’ll _be_ fine. I’m sorry this shit happens to me, because I know it scares you… but I’m okay. I’m here. And I need you to be here, too.”

Brian responded by pulling Justin closer, relishing in the warmth of his physical presence. 

“There are acrylic paint markers in the other bag on the coffee table,” he said after a few minutes. “Thought you might get bored with a white cast.”

“Where did you find acrylic paint markers at this hour?” Justin asked, genuinely touched by the gesture. 

“Art department,” Brian replied. 

“Thanks,” Justin said. “But I’m pretty sure you’re doing this so I won’t go get a neon green cast.” His eyes danced with amusement.

Brian choked on a laugh. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Justin started to laugh with him, but it turned into a gasp of pain.

“Do you want the ice back?” Brian asked, concerned. “I can get it.”

“No, I want you to stay here,” Justin said insistently, and then groaned again. “Fuck.”

Feeling helpless, Brian thought of the only other thing that might work. He leaned down and captured Justin’s lips in a deep kiss. To his satisfaction, after a moment, the tone of Justin’s moans took a decidedly different tone. 

“Better?” Brian asked, pulling back enough to speak.

“Much,” Justin replied, and Brian could see the glint of his grin in the moonlight. “I think that is just what the doctor ordered. Told you true love’s kiss would do the trick.”

Brian snorted before leaning back in. “Just shut up and take your medicine.”


End file.
